“She asks our opinion?” Riverbank noted with a frown. “As though we have already agreed to reunification and are part of her nation?”
Little Matron Tarha of the Beaver Clan rose to her feet. Hunched and gray-haired, she used her walking stick to prop up her thin body. “Before we discuss Chief Atotarho, I wish to address another matter. Riverbank Village and Coldspring are both gone, destroyed by your warriors, Matron Yi, and Canassatego Village barely survived. Did the Old Hills council order the destruction of our villages?”
Hateful voices rumbled around the circumference of the house.
Yi answered, “Blessed Spirits, no, Little Matron. Our council knew nothing of these attacks until warriors came streaming into Atotarho Village carrying their wounded. From what the warriors told us, Atotarho ordered the attacks to punish your villages for turning against him during the Bur Oak battle. It was completely Atotarho’s decision.”
Kwahseti thought about it for a time before she rose to her feet. “If it pleases the council, I would speak on the issue of Atotarho and his war party.”
Matron Tarha sat down, and Gwinodje said, “Please do so, Matron Kwahseti.”
Kwahseti didn’t look at Yi. Instead, she turned around to face the other council members. “Atotarho is utterly mad. I don’t know when he lost his soul, but it’s been wandering aimlessly in the forest for at least thirty summers that I can recall. He must be stopped. As you all know, High Matron Zateri sent one hundred warriors back to Bur Oak Village to help protect them, as she promised she would do, but if Matron Yi is telling us the whole truth, it will not be enough to stop Atotarho from wiping the Standing Stone nation from the face of the world.”
Kwahseti turned back around and stared directly at Yi. Yi’s face had gone rigid. “So, we ask you, Matron Yi, will the old Ruling Council join the new alliance and send warriors to reinforce ours … or does it prefer to wait and see how many of its enemies Atotarho can kill?”
Yi lifted her chin and gazed down her nose at Kwahseti, but a tiny grudging smile of respect tugged at her lips. “The Ruling Council has already carefully considered this matter. We will tentatively agree to join the Peace Alliance, and order our forces to support yours, but only, only, if you agree to reunify our nation.”
From the rear of the house, a flash of dawn light filled the chamber as someone entered. Kwahseti turned to see Zateri gracefully marching forward. Her long white cape gleamed in the firelight. The blue paw prints around the bottom swayed with her steps. The High Matron stopped in front of Yi with her feet spread and her fists clenched. In a powerful voice, raised for all to hear, Zateri asked, “If we agree, will the Ruling Council send word to Atotarho that his people have declared him Outcast, and he is a member of the walking dead? He must become a man with no name!”
A cacophony of shouts and supporting voices exploded inside the council house, and more outside. The entire village roared.
One of Yi’s delicate black brows lifted. She gave Zateri a challenging look. In an equally strong voice, she called, “Only the full council of matrons has the right to take back his name and depose him from his position. If you rejoin the nation, and undergo the Requickening Ceremony to accept your grandmother’s Spirit, I give you my oath that I will support that motion in council. But first, High Matron”—the assembly hissed in response to her calling Zateri the High Matron of the nation, which forced Yi to hold up a hand to get their attention—“let’s make this nation whole again.”
Every nerve in Kwahseti’s body tingled with shock. Zateri stood like a small statue. Her cape was so still it appeared to be carved of white marble. Her face showed no give.
Gwinodje edged forward to whisper, “Blessed gods, Zateri, this is what we’ve been praying for.”
When Yi heard Gwinodje’s words, some of the fire went out of her eyes. She reached out to place a gentle hand upon Zateri’s shoulder, and softly said, “You are not my enemy. You never have been. If your people agree to reunification, we can immediately send a runner to War Chief Negano telling him to use our army to support the alliance. But it will take almost two days, running day and night, for him to get there. We must do this quickly, Zateri. Or we will be too late.”
Forty-nine
Sky Messenger
Weary. We’ve run almost straight through.…
As the slanting rays of sundown filter through the trees, amber-tinted mist seeps up from the piles of old leaves that cover the forest floor and twines around the bases of the maples like gossamer vines. It is so quiet. Baji and I run side-by-side down the trail that leads to Bur Oak Village, listening to the sound of our moccasins striking earth. Gitchi trots behind Baji, staying right at her heels, as though he senses she’s in danger. We have no idea what lurks in the forest ahead. Three more rises to go, and we will know for certain if Tagohsah told the truth and Atotarho’s army surrounds Bur Oak Village. Smoke fills the air, but this far away it is faint. It may come from the fire hearths in the longhouses, not from enemy campfires. My heart thunders in anticipation.